Let's talk today about the limits of friendship.
Attending a football game is a communal experience. It's fun. It's inclusive. It's a big human hug. This is the everlasting beauty of attending a live sporting event -- for four or five hours everyone is best friends on both sides of the aisle ... in lodge, field or club level. We're all in this together. That unity has never been more important than in these divisive times.
Still, you have to keep your wits about you. It's easy to get caught up in the euphoria of the crowd experience and start to do things that make absolutely no sense. Like in Buffalo, where the Saints on Sunday put on a performance against the Bills that will be remembered for generations. OK, probably not; I pretty much forgot about it by Tuesday and so did you, but still, it was a pretty gnarly blowout as I recall. Vaguely. Anyway, Mark Ingram scored three touchdowns, and after one of them he decided to leap into the front row at New Era Stadium so he could celebrate with the sizey contingent of Saints fans who made the journey from the balmy bayou to frigid Western New York.
Ingram's celebration was for Saints fans only, which explains the running back's reaction when this random guy attempted to get in on the fun. C'mon man. Nobody likes a party crasher. People liked Wedding Crashers, but that was Vince Vaughn at his cool, younger uncle apex, but I digress.
Let's get back to the game and play Devil's advocate: Mark Ingram is throwing a party in the Bills' -- and by the transitive property -- house, and since it is this man's "house", he should be invited to any soiree at the residence. But no, the logic crumbles quickly when you remember why 93 percent of the people at football games are allies in the first place: they want the W. This Bills fan and thousands others wanted to send Ingram and his precious Saints marching back to New Orleans with an ugly defeat. Ingram's "party" was a celebration that the Bills and their fans would go home disappointed.
Sooo, final ruling: Ingram was justified in shoving this guy out of his celebration. This is a private party for Saints friends only. Hit the bricks, Dad.
